


Stupid Prick

by taskinst



Series: like fire, like water [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 10:31:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/550604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taskinst/pseuds/taskinst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High school AU. Harry and Niall hated each other. Or so they thought. They fought over everything - but one day, Harry took ‘fighting’ to a whole new level.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid Prick

**Author's Note:**

> This literally is your classic love/hate high school AU.

* * *

Two sides of the same coin

Completely different and yet surprisingly similar

* * *

Niall hurried down the school hallway, his backpack on one shoulder and a notebook tucked under his arm. He arrived at school early today so he could do some last minute studying for a test – he had only been reminded of it last night when Liam texted him about it.

The blond was glad that the school was quiet – it seemed that he was the only one there this early. He could really use some peace. However, he celebrated too early, because just as he rounded the last corner that should take him to the classroom, a pair of arms grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him against the wall.

Niall groaned in pain and he blinked a few times before focusing on the person before him. Oh, of course.

“Morning, Niall,” the voice whispered into his ear in a husky tone. Strands of curly chocolate hair tickled the side of the Irish boy’s cheeks as he felt warm breath ghost over his skin.

“Don’t you have girls to greet by the school gate or pussy to buy? What are you doing here?” Niall hissed as he glared up at Harry. Harry was a few months younger than Niall, but he was taller than him by at least a couple inches, and that pissed the smaller boy off to no end every time.

“I’m hurt. Do you really think so lowly of me?” the brunet replied in a pseudo-upset tone, the annoying small smirk on his lips never once faltering.

“Try me,” Niall bit back, attempting to shove his way past Harry to escape. But Harry knew this was going to happen and his grip on the Irish boy was firm.

“Invitation?”

“Fuck you. I don’t have time for this.”

He was about to give the curly-haired boy an extra hard shove to end it all when he suddenly gasped and felt all words escape him.

Harry always knew all the right buttons to press to get what he wanted, but most of all, he knew all the right spots to tease. Right now, his expertise in this area was especially annoying as he gave the sensitive spot on the juncture of Niall’s neck an extra hard suck. He massaged the area with his tongue, listening with satisfaction as the Irish teen turned into a trembling mess before him. That spot always got to Niall – Harry knew it all too well and used it to his own advantage far too much for it to be ethical.

Not missing a beat, the younger boy nudged a leg between Niall’s thighs, rubbing his knee against the boy’s crotch. It never failed to surprise Harry how sensitive Niall was. It took so little transform the boy into putty in his hands – but Harry would like to think that it was all down to his  _skill_. The blond bit his lip at the pressure on his lower region and clutched the taller boy’s shoulders as though debating whether to pull him closer or to push him away.

Push him away, push him away _, push him away_.

The mantra in Niall’s head was persistent but weak, and as the seconds passed by, his resolve only kept crumbling.

Ah, it wasn’t good. He could feel himself getting hard from Harry’s leg rubbing against his crotch. He could feel a hand reaching at the hem of his school shirt, pulling at it a few times before slipping beneath the material. It snaked up Niall’s small waist, stomach, chest, and paused to tweak at a pert nipple. The blond boy held his breath and threw his head back as he bit down on his lip to keep himself from making any sound. The hand finally settled on his shoulder and gave it a quick squeeze before disappearing.

Suddenly, the warm sensation on his neck and the pressure between his legs also vanished. Niall opened his eyes in surprise and stared at Harry, who only smiled back cheekily, placing a hand on Niall’s head and ruffling his hair.

“Can’t have you making a mess in those pants now, can we?” the brunet teased as he gave the blond’s pale cheeks a light poke before withdrawing completely. “I win,” he announced cheerfully, like a child winning a game against their peers.

But then again, that’s what it was, wasn’t it? A game.

As Harry turned and sauntered off, Niall looked to the side and stared at the ground beneath him, kicking in with force before cursing loudly. He whirled around and punched the wall with all his strength.

That stupid fucker.

It stopped being a game  _a long time ago_.

* * *

Since they were young, Niall and Harry had always been rivals. They made it quite explicit that they didn’t get along with each other and were often bickering or fighting on the playground whilst the other kids took sides. Niall transferred from Ireland when he was nine and had since attended the same school as Harry, who had lived in the neighborhood all his life. They were both well-liked by their peers, but for some reason, they just rubbed each other the wrong way.

Ever since they could remember, they fought over anything and everything and made a competition out of it. The objective was always to win, to beat the other boy at everything. This included homework, tests, grades, sports, and even things like who got to the school cafeteria first during lunch. It quickly became a routine and an obsession, to the point where neither boy could back down from a challenge once issued, no matter how detrimental the consequences.

From the outside, they might look like two boys who shared a friendly rivalry, but both of them knew that it was much more than that. At least, it wasn’t just a friendly rivalry anymore.

It was an addiction.

Both of them were massively obsessed with the other boy, to the point of being addicted to their daily interactions with each other. They were never quite friendly, but nobody, not even themselves, could lay a finger on it.

What was it?

* * *

Niall’s carefree personality – Harry always thought that it was a sham, something overdone and fake. How could someone truly be so cheerful all the time? He didn’t buy it for a second, and it pissed him off that everyone else believed it. As a kid, he made it a mission to wipe that smile off the blond boy’s face and make him angry in every way he could.

* * *

It was a secret, but Harry realized this a while ago. It was paradoxical, but then everything about their relationship was. They were everything the other boy wasn’t, and yet, they were so similar to each other in so many ways.

Harry realized that, at some point, he wanted to  _be_  Niall.

* * *

Harry had always gotten what he wanted with a flick of a finger – because he always knew exactly what to say and when. It ticked Niall off, that people naturally flocked to Harry even as he couldn’t even bother to flash a smile. The brunet never had to try. Perfect looks, perfect grades, perfect friends, perfect family… Harry had it all. He was even generally agreeable to others… humorous, laid-back, a natural flirt… or so Niall had heard from his friends.

He was apparently amazing to everyone, except Niall.

Niall saw through that mask of perfection Harry wore. He knew that Harry wasn’t what he was made out to be – he wasn’t a robot or a god, he wasn’t perfect. The younger teen was an ass to Niall from day one, and he reciprocated the gesture with pleasure by acting as loud and as annoying as possible in front of the brunet. There was every reason to act that way – Niall always thought that Harry was a pompous ass who thought he deserved everything.

The way Harry treated him certainly didn’t help with the image.

* * *

But at some point, a part of him wanted to  _be_  Harry, because all his personality flaws aside (the ones that Harry only directed at Niall and nobody else), the boy was actually perfect.

He hated to admit it, but unless Harry treated a person like he did Niall, he was extremely difficult to criticize.

* * *

All of that was until one of their many after school fights that occurred at least once every week. They would literally bump into each other behind the school building and start throwing punches and kicks.

It was all progressing as usual. Harry normally had the upper hand because he was the bigger of the two, but Niall was fast and shouldn’t be underestimated in terms of strength. They were equals, one could say, and it was never quite clear who won every time they fought.

This time, Niall found himself in the unlikely predicament of being pinned to the ground by a panting Harry Styles who had an intense look in his green eyes. The Irish boy only glared up at his rival as he waited for the opportunity to kick him off.

What happened next surprised the both of them.

Harry didn’t know what came over him at that moment. He watched with a blurry vision as the blond boy whose arms he held above his head panted from exertion, his pale cheeks rosy red and his lips a dark pink as his tongue peeked out to coat them with saliva. The curly-haired boy didn’t even know where the instinct came from, but the sight before him ignited something within him, and he suddenly had an urge that he was unable to quell – something he knew he would regret, that would change their relationship forever.

He had the unforgivable urge to kiss Niall.

But he didn’t.

* * *

That was when Harry realized that he didn’t want to  _be_  Niall, but he wanted…

And the implications of that realization haunted and frustrated him in the days to come.

* * *

He would never forget the way the Niall’s ocean blue eyes widened in shock as he leaned in and – Niall thought he was going to kiss him, but he was wrong – began sucking on the delicate skin on his neck. Perhaps Niall was surprised, too, that he didn’t kiss him, but instead left dark hickeys all over his neck, and an extra dark one on the spot in the juncture of his neck that was especially sensitive. Harry found out about it that day.

Kissing was too intimate, something that couples did – something that Harry felt he could not share with Niall, no matter how much he wanted to every time he saw the blond boy lick his lips as he leaned in close to him. It was just a game to them. A part of their stupid little rivalry, the competition against each other they’d been in ever since they met. It was a way Harry sought power over Niall – a way to wipe that pervasive smile off his stupid face. Instead, it was replaced with looks of helpless pleasure and conflict as the blond fought to push him off every time, but could never gather the will power to do so.

What could he say? Harry must acknowledge that he was good at what he did.  

It was the fight that he won every time. Whenever Harry did this to Niall – surprised him suddenly – he always won.

After all, the one who had the control at the end took the crown, right?

* * *

He couldn’t be more wrong.

Hook, line, and sinker.

* * *

Today was the day.

* * *

Somehow, Niall found himself following Harry to his house as they were paired up for a group project due in a few days. It was the worst of coincidences, but school was school and neither of them were slackers.

The brunet walked into the kitchen the minute he entered the house. Opening the fridge, the younger teen examined the contents before pulling out a carton of orange juice.

“Something to drink?” he asked without looking up. Niall leaned against the doorframe of the kitchen, his arms crossed – guarded. He paused to think for a moment before shaking his head; not that Harry could see because he wasn’t looking at him.

“Just water,” the blond boy replied as he watched Harry pour himself a cup of juice before grabbing another cup to pour water in.

They were acting normal around each other – like old friends, even, Niall thought to himself as Harry casually handed him his glass of water before walking past him and heading upstairs. Assuming it was an invitation to follow suit, Niall padded along after the younger boy on the carpeted floor.

* * *

“So here, we want to find the point in this parabola where the slope is equal to zero, because the tangent to the curve at the maximum point is a horizontal line,” Harry explained as he wrote down a few equations. Niall nodded and began differentiating the equation Harry wrote to solve it.

“Okay, so then once we get the maximum point, we know that it’s the point in time in which the tide is the highest,” Niall added as he scribbled some more.

“Yep,” the younger teen nodded as he typed up some of the answers onto the word document he had opened up on his laptop.  The Irish boy leaned over his shoulder to observe what Harry was typing. Sensing their proximity (hearing Niall breathing beside him and almost being able to imagine his chest rising and falling along to the rhythm), Harry tensed and his fingers paused in its movement. The awkward pause caused Niall to turn to face Harry on instinct – which, in retrospect, was probably the biggest mistake ever, because the brunet decided to turn at the same time.

And they realized that their faces, their lips, were awfully close.

The way Harry’s eyes fell onto the blond’s small pink lips for a fraction of a second did not escape his notice, but mainly because Niall did the same, and both of them looked away guiltily.

* * *

And then somehow, Niall found himself in his current predicament as Harry decided that it would be a good idea to wind him up by pushing him onto the bed and climbing on top of him.

“Stop it, Harry,” Niall hissed, his blue eyes glaring sharply up at the younger teen. But Harry didn’t seem to be listening – in fact, he didn’t seem like he was quite there – and leaned in towards the smaller boy’s throat. Niall knew this routine all too well – and he knew that if he didn’t stop Harry soon, he wouldn’t be able to.

That was it, today.

“I said just fucking stop it,” Niall repeated, his voice louder this time. He felt himself panic a little as Harry began licking the side of his neck before working his way towards _that spot_. Alarms were going off in the Irish boy’s head as he frantically thought of what he could do to stop Harry, and it all came down to one thing: violence.

Using all his strength, he shoved the taller boy off of him, and without thinking, followed that action with a resounding slap on the boy’s face.

That seemed to break Harry out of his trance because his eyes widened to an impossible size as a hand shot up to nurse his throbbing cheek. Niall only watched as different emotions flashed across the younger boy’s eyes. The two of them sat in a deathly silence on the bed, unmoving.

It was as though hours had passed before Niall finally broke the silence. Looking off to the side, he sighed and ran his hands through his hair once before pulling on the blond strands harshly

“This isn’t a game anymore,” he said quietly, his face showing a look of defeat. “It became much more than that a long time ago and you know it.”

Harry remained silent as he stared pointedly at an interesting patch on his sheets. Niall thought for a second that the younger teen looked beautiful in that angle – his head turned to the side, his rich chocolate-colored curls framing his face and running free. Just like the rest of him, the boy’s profile was impeccable.

Understanding that the Harry wasn’t going to give him a verbal response, Niall pressed on.

“You need to stop. We need to stop. It’s gone way past the boundaries now and I’m not sure if you want that.”

The silence stretched on.

“Harry—”

Niall gasped in surprise as the brunet suddenly raised an arm and punched the mattress in full force. The smaller boy reached towards Harry, wanting to comfort him because that was what he would have done to any other person, but he stopped himself before he actually touched him.

He couldn’t even touch him.

Shaking his head and muttering under his breath, Harry swiveled around and sat facing the wall, giving Niall a view of his full profile. Bending his knees, he hugged them to his chest and rested his head on his them. The room was silent save for the sound of breathing.

Niall found himself thinking once again about how beautiful Harry’s profile was. The curly-haired boy was always beautiful, but even more so now that he looked so sad. It almost broke his heart – that was, if Harry wasn’t so stupid and didn’t mess everything up between them.

But then again, both of them were responsible for the way things turned out.

The Irish boy was distracted from his thoughts as he noticed the figure before him trembling. His eyes widened as he realized that Harry – the perfect Harry who always knew what he was doing, who was always in control – was crying. The blond tried to quell the urge to go over and hug the younger boy, but he wasn’t heartless. Harry might be stupid, but he was human, and Niall of all people understood that.

Maybe he understood too well.

Getting onto his knees, he crawled over to Harry and pulled him into a hug, resting his chin on the younger boy’s head. His chocolate brown curls smelled like raspberries and lemon grass; it was addictive, and if Niall wasn’t careful…

But then it was already too late, because Harry was an idiot.

Niall realized this a long time ago, and it hurt him.

“We need to stop this… you’ve gone too far and I—look, we can be friends if we tried,” the blond said tentatively, his voice soothing as he rubbed Harry’s back gently – a reassuring gesture.

A sharp exhale, followed by a violent tremble and a deep chuckle.

Harry was laughing in his tears.

Niall wasn’t sure if he should be scared or worried.

“Friends?” the younger boy said between chuckles, pulling away from Niall and raising a hand to wipe away the moisture on his face. “You think we could be friends?”

His tone was sardonic, and the Irish boy wasn’t sure what for – he was a little offended to say the least.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Harry replied, looking at Niall straight in the eye. “If we could be friends, we would have been that a long time ago.”

The blond huffed and looked to the side, his cheeks a cute red as he struggled to understand what Harry was getting at.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try,” he objected quietly, voice lacking confidence.

At that, Harry went from chuckling quietly to full blown laughing. Niall only watched on, a bewildered expression on his face as he briefly wondered if the younger boy had gone crazy.

Shuffling closer to the blond boy on the bed, Harry looked off to the side and sat in silence for a minute as though contemplating his next move. Niall watched nervously and waited. So Harry didn’t want to be friends? Then what would become of them?

He had always thought that Harry didn’t want the thing that their relationship was heading towards.

Romance.

“Do you know why I’ve never kissed you?” the brunet asked as he broke out of his trance and leaned forward, lifting the smaller boy’s chin with two fingers. Niall blushed at their sudden proximity and gulped visibly – there was something about the way Harry was looking at him… it was… different.

“… No, yes – ah, maybe,” Niall replied, stuttering and stumbling over his words. What should the answer be?

The younger boy smirked deviously and leaned in further until there was only an inch’s space between their lips. He could feel Niall’s breath on his skin– speeding up, speeding up.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” Harry whispered. Their eyes locked, green clashing with blue; they shared a moment of understanding – and finally, they felt like they were on the same page for the first time.

* * *

They were so similar, and yet so different.

They were everything the other wasn’t, and yet everything the other was.

Harry didn’t want to  _be_  Niall. Niall didn’t want to  _be_  Harry.

They just – what?

* * *

The room was silent. Night had long fallen and the moon hung brightly in the dark sky. Placing a hand behind Niall’s head, Harry ran his fingers through the soft blond hair before closing the small gap between their lips.

The younger boy expected some resistance – because he was used to Niall resisting him a bit before finally caving in, but he was pleasantly surprised when the blond boy kissed back fervently. He had placed his hands on Harry’s shoulders, pulling the taller boy closer. In response, Harry pushed Niall down to lie on the bed and placed a hand on the side of the Irish boy’s face. He ran his thumb down the side of Niall’s cheeks – his smooth, pale skin and that small dimple he had on his face that few people knew about.

Harry was about to start running his hands down the rest of Niall’s body when he was suddenly pushed over and flipped to lie down on his back. Niall climbed on top of him held both his hands in his own.

“Stupid prick,” the smaller boy said, his eyes narrowing.

Harry only smiled up at him.

“Touching me against my will in the name of your stupid game.”

The smile widened.

“Always using me and then leaving me.”

The smile turned into a full blown grin.

“Inconsiderate of the feelings that you forced me to develop.  _Making me fall for you and then hurting me._ ”

The cheeky grin remained on the younger boy’s face as he reached up and pulled Niall’s closer to him.

“Well, I kissed you now; you know what that means, right?” Harry said in a light and playful tone.

 “You better tell me straight, because I’m not taking any more roundabout shit from you,” Niall replied, his blue eyes narrowing.

“Aw, I was hoping you’d tell me,” the brunet said. Niall’s eyes narrowed into slits at that. “Joking. Hey, I think I like you…”

“You think?”

“Okay, I like you, a lot.”

“Good save, especially after all that you did to me,” the blond responded as he sat up with a sigh. “I’m still angry at you though, for being so stupid and making all of this happen.”

Harry contemplated that statement for a while before sitting up as well and poking Niall’s cheek.

“I can’t say I regret it though,” he said. “And I must say, although I’m going to start kissing you, I’m still not going to let that spot on your neck go. Ever.”

“Jesus, I hate you, I hope you know that.”

“I don’t know that.”

Niall punched Harry in the arm and Harry pushed Niall back down on the bed. The two wrestled a bit before settling, lying next to each other with their hands intertwined, gazing up a the ceiling.

“But why did it take us this long?” the curly-haired teen pondered as he turned his head slightly to gaze at the blond boy lying beside him.

Stupid prick.

Stupid perfect sexy charming prick.

“I hate you.”

* * *

End


End file.
